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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975192">Incredible Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxbait/pseuds/Noxbait'>Noxbait</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Gen, Pre-Series, Teenchesters, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:13:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,703</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxbait/pseuds/Noxbait</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series. A hunt goes incredibly well. What happens next goes very very badly. The Winchesters doing what they do best - hunting things and saving each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Incredible Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Good Morning! here's a surprise story for ya! :) This little story has been sitting in my files for TWO YEARS waiting to be polished/finished. The ending just never quite fell into place but FINALLY it is complete and I think it's pretty great. :)</p>
<p>It's my birthday today so i decided to post as a present to myself and all of you. :D Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <span class="u"> <em>Pre-series</em> </span>
</p>
<p>"Well, this was incredible!" Dean pumped his fist into the air and repeated at the top of his lungs, "Incredible!"</p>
<p>"Dean." John hoped his voice conveyed his desire for his seventeen-year-old to rein it in a bit.</p>
<p>It wasn't that he disagreed. It <em>was</em> incredible. The hunt had gone well. They were all alive and there wasn't much more he wanted out of the day.</p>
<p>Other than to be warm and dry.</p>
<p>The wind was whipping so hard that he could see Sam actually fighting to stay on his feet. The moody spring sky was spitting chilly rain and John wanted to be in a hot shower as soon as possible. But first he had to rein in his son. Dean was still pumping his fist and all but prancing around as if he'd won the hunter equivalent of the Super Bowl.</p>
<p>"Dean?" John raised his voice to be heard over the moaning wind. "Come on. Let's get moving!"</p>
<p>Dean whooped again, his grin wide. He reached down for the bag of gear and said, "Try to keep up, old man!"</p>
<p>John glared at his son, opened his mouth to yell at him, but then he caught sight of Sam's face. He was grinning and laughing at his brother's antics. Which was probably why Dean was being such a goofball in the first place. John adjusted his backpack and watched his boys.</p>
<p>Dean continued cracking jokes and goofing off in front of his brother. Sam laughed, stumbling every few steps. He had his hands full and the wind wasn't helping him as he struggled to move forward. They were all loaded down with gear so John didn't even have a hand to offer to assist his son. And, to be honest, he wasn't sure how Sam would take it if he tried.</p>
<p>Things had been rocky between them lately.</p>
<p>Sam didn't appreciate being forced to come on this trip; something he'd spent a lot of time and breath making very clear. They'd barely spoken a single sentence to each other outside of arguing and the constant tension was affecting all three of them.</p>
<p>Which was quite possibly why Dean was still acting like a five year old on a sugar rush despite the crappy weather. Resigning himself, John shouldered his pack and started walking. The boys would follow and he wasn't worrying about their safety because - as childishly as Dean was acting - John knew he wouldn't do anything to put them in danger. And Dean would be watching his little brother like a hawk even if he didn't act like he was.</p>
<p>John couldn't help but smile as he walked, listening to the conversation behind him.</p>
<p>"Did you see the way I took him down, Sammy?" Dean shouted triumphantly over the wind. "It was epic!"</p>
<p>"It was epic when you fell on your ass in the mud."</p>
<p>John hoped they couldn't hear him laughing because it would ruin his image.</p>
<p>Dean apparently didn't find it as funny, though. "I did not fall-"</p>
<p>"You didn't fall?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"So you intended to slide down the hill and land on your ass in the mud?" Sam asked brightly, sounding like a school teacher. "Because, what? You were tired and needed to take a rest?"</p>
<p>John snorted and smiled to himself as he listened to Dean sputtering and swearing and trying to regain control of the situation.</p>
<p>"I did not fall. I took the fast way down that hill because I needed to save <em>your</em> sorry ass from the chupacabra."</p>
<p>"My ass did not need saving," Sam said, picking his way over some rocks. "You were the one who needed saving! If I hadn't shot it when I did, you would've been chupacabra chow."</p>
<p>"You're...chupacabra chow." Dean struggled for a good comeback and failed.</p>
<p>Sam's laughter carried easily to John despite the wind. He paused and turned around to glance back at his boys. Dean was currently ankle deep in muck and trying his hardest not to fall on his face. John caught Sam's eyes and Sam's grin widened as they shared a moment of amusement at Dean's expense.<br/>John grinned back and relished the moment.</p>
<p>Afterwards, he would regret having been so far ahead of his boys. He opened his mouth to comment on Dean's predicament when the wind gusted behind him. The gear went out of his hands and he landed on his hands and knees.</p>
<p>Looking up, he saw Dean blown backwards by the gust; landing, for the second time, on his butt in the mud.</p>
<p>It might have led to further teasing if not for the fact that the gust of wind did more than just knock him and Dean to the ground.</p>
<p>Sam was knocked off his feet. He went down hard and tumbled down a steep, sloping incline behind him. John knew what was at the end of that incline and horror punched him in the gut. There was no time, no chance, no possibility of getting to him, but John tried anyway. Struggling to push himself to his feet, he caught Dean's gaze. He was still sitting in the mud, annoyance written all over his face.</p>
<p>Annoyance morphed instantly into terror when their eyes met and Dean easily read his expression. Dean's head practically snapped off as he turned to look for his brother. Hands and knees in the muck, he frantically crawled toward the edge of the incline where Sam had just rolled out of their sight.</p>
<p>"Sam!" Dean's shout was loud enough to be heard over the wind.</p>
<p>The sheer panic in his tone had John's heart skipping erratically as he sprinted toward Dean.</p>
<p>They reached the edge of the incline at the same moment and John's heart seemed to stop altogether.</p>
<p>"Sam!" Both he and Dean shouted at the same time, both reaching out, desperately trying to grab him.</p>
<p>Sam looked up, eyes wide with fear. He was scrabbling to get a handhold as he continued sliding down the muddy incline. He might have wound up with nothing more than bumps and bruises except for the fact that at the bottom of the incline was a river.</p>
<p>A spring-rain swollen river, churning with furious rapids.</p>
<p>"Dad!" Sam shouted, reaching out a hand. "Help!"</p>
<p>"Sammy!" Dean lunged forward, hand brushing his brother's.</p>
<p>John grabbed Dean's belt just before he fell head over his heels after his brother. His hold on Dean's belt gave him a little more of a stretch to reach out for Sam, but it wasn't enough.</p>
<p>"Dean!" Sam's voice was a terrified shout just one split second before he slipped off the edge and disappeared under the waves.</p>
<p>"No!" Dean shouted, jerking almost out of John's grip as he tried his hardest to grab his brother. "Sammy!"</p>
<p>"Sam!" John kept hold of Dean while trying to keep an eye on Sam's dark hair that he could barely see bobbing just under the white rapids.</p>
<p>"Dad, let me go!" Dean looked over his shoulder, struggling desperately to break free of John's grip.</p>
<p>"Come." John yanked him to his feet knowing their best chance was to stay on the ground and run.</p>
<p>As soon as Dean was on the ground, John took off running; Dean's boots pounding the ground behind him. Heart slamming against his ribs, he studied the river, barely able to see Sam struggling against the current. He was a strong swimmer but the weather had been stormy and the river was wild.</p>
<p>They needed to get him out <em>now.</em></p>
<p>Dean was shouting Sam's name at the top of his lungs for all the good it was doing. At least he was still running and hadn't dove into the water yet. John understood his son's eagerness to jump into the river, but he wasn't sure <em>any </em>of them stood a chance against the current. Their best chance was to get far enough ahead that they could reach out and grab Sam.</p>
<p>"Dad, we gotta get closer!"</p>
<p>"It's a sheer drop off here," John shouted back, not slowing. "We need to get ahead of him."</p>
<p>"He's gonna <em>drown </em>if we don't get him out." Dean was at his side.</p>
<p>"I know that!"</p>
<p>Eyes scanning ahead, he saw a curve in the river and a gradual decline from the high rock cliff to a lower shelf close to the water. That was it. Their best chance.</p>
<p>Huffing for breath, he pointed. "There."</p>
<p>Dean followed his lead and they sprinted the short distance to the low spot. As he ran, John tore his backpack off. They would have a matter of seconds at best.</p>
<p>Skidding on the rocks, John threw his pack to the ground and dug out the rope. Then he tore off his heavy coat. Without looking up, he asked, "You see him?"</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>Rope in hand, he got to his feet. Dean was already ankle deep in the water, scanning the rapids. John threw the rope around a nearby pine and secured it before running down the rocks to Dean's side. He grabbed Dean's shoulder just as he slipped.</p>
<p>"Get back!"</p>
<p>"Dad!"</p>
<p>"Get <em>back!</em>" John pushed him up the bank and took his place on the rock, looping the rope around his waist.</p>
<p>He'd barely gotten his footing on the slick rocks when Dean shouted, "There!"</p>
<p>John almost missed him.</p>
<p>The churning waters were driving Sam under, but he was fighting. Fighting, but losing the battle. They didn't have much time. Dean was crowding him from the left, clearly intending to jump into the water. It wasn't really any tamer here than it had been before, but they wouldn't get another chance.</p>
<p>He put a hand against Dean's shoulder, handing him the rope without taking his eyes off his youngest. If Dean protested or had an issue with the plan, he didn't say anything, just grabbed the rope. Trusting him to do what he needed to, John edged further out into the water. The current was strong enough that he was struggling to remain upright.</p>
<p>Fear rushed over him and it took all of his will power to shove it into the box he kept all of his emotions in when he was on a job. Fear and worry were not going to help him now and they weren't going to get Sam out of the river. If they didn't get him out soon, he was going to be dead. John wasn't about to lose his son.</p>
<p>He jumped into the river without another thought.</p>
<p>The cold of the water stole his breath and his hands went numb almost instantly. The rope cinched hard around his waist and he had to fight to keep his head above water and draw breath. A heartbeat after he'd jumped into the water, he saw Sam.</p>
<p>For one split second, their eyes met and John saw the fear and relief in his son's eyes. And then Sam reached for him. John caught his wrist and pulled as hard as he could. Sam grabbed his jacket and they both went under the water.</p>
<p>One hand on the rope, one hand holding Sam as close as possible, John fought to surface from beneath the pounding waves. They were being buffeted and spun, but they got above the water long enough for him to get a deep breath and Sam to cough up a lungful of water before they went under again. Losing track of which way was up and which was down, John kicked and fought to get above water again. The rope was jerking back and forth; slack gave way to a taut snap from the waves, strong current, and Dean's grip on the rope.</p>
<p>His boots scraped along a firm surface and he let go of the rope in order to get a better grip on his son. Ignoring the backpack that Sam really should have known to shuck, John closed his fingers around his son's belt and tugged him close. Sam was clinging to him with both hands and kicking wildly. He wasn't panicking yet, but he was getting close. Once John had a firm grip on Sam's belt, he released his wrist and fumbled for the rope again while simultaneously pushing off from the rock and boosting them toward the surface.</p>
<p>A second later they were above water and he could hear Dean shouting, but the words were indecipherable over the roar of the waves. A split second later they were under again. He'd inhaled more water than air and doubted Sam had gotten much air either.</p>
<p>This was not going well.</p>
<p>The water was twisting him in the rope and he had to release it lest he lose a hand. The slack ran out and he was jerked painfully at the waist. The sudden stop and a drifting tree branch that slammed into Sam's backpack were enough for Sam to lose his desperate grip on his jacket. John didn't let go of his belt even though he was being ripped in half between the rope and the near dead weight being pulled away by the current.</p>
<p>And then Sam's boots landed on a rock and he pushed off sending both of them to the surface again. This time, they both managed a gulp of air and John caught sight of Dean on the bank, pulling on the rope with all his strength and shouting at them for all he was worth. John got a hold of the rope again and ever so slowly, they were towed toward the shore. He was kicking as best he could and he knew Sam was trying, too, but the kid was worn out and not accomplishing much. Even so, the shore drew closer and closer.</p>
<p>John was scrabbling to get a footing on the rocks beneath them, still trying to keep them above water, when his feet went out from under him and he was spun in a full circle. Helpless, he lost his grip on the rope yet again. They were being washed further out, spun around, and he had the briefest glimpse of a huge boulder they were headed toward, before they went under once again. Bobbing back to the surface, he had a split second to draw breath before the current slammed them full force into the boulder.</p>
<p>The breath was knocked from his lungs as he crashed against Sam's backpack, driving Sam hard into the boulder. The force of the blow jarred his right wrist as it took the brunt of his weight where he was still holding awkwardly onto Sam's belt.</p>
<p>The pain tore through him and his fingers refused to hold the belt any longer. He was desperate and frantic and managed to wrap both his arms around his son just before he was swept away. The backpack between them was a problem, but he couldn't even hope to wrestle it off. As the initial shock of pain gave way, he realized the water in front of him was tinged red and Sam had gone completely limp.</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit!</em>
</p>
<p>He put his legs out in front and shoved against a rock, propelling them to the surface. Sucking in a desperate breath, he kicked as hard as he could while maintaining his hold around Sam's waist. The rope was tearing him in half again, but he could see progress as the rocks moved past him. He continued to kick, floating on his back and attempting to keep Sam's head above water while Dean towed them toward shore.</p>
<p>The water was still bloody and Sam's arms and legs floated uselessly in the raging water. The current finally shifted and Sam's head lolled backwards. John caught his first glimpse of the damage and let out a hoarse, water-logged curse. Sam was out cold; his face bloody from a cut above his left eyebrow. His nose, and maybe his lip, was bleeding too.</p>
<p>He couldn't tell if Sam was breathing.</p>
<p>That concern alone gave him renewed strength to kick and push and scrabble against the rocky bed of the river toward the shore. Dean's efforts were beginning to show fruit and, a moment later, John finally found footing and shakily stood up. The rush of the river was still violent and he struggled, falling to his knees and slipping under once or twice before strong hands grabbed his upper arms and pulled.</p>
<p>"Come on, Dad, come on," Dean shouted in his ear as he helped drag him onto the shore.</p>
<p>John didn't have enough breath to inform his son that he was doing everything in his power <em>to</em> come on<em>.</em></p>
<p>Still clinging to Sam like his life depended on it - which it did - John propelled himself backwards through the knee deep water. Dean had to do most of the supporting since John was struggling to maintain his footing while gasping for breath and hanging onto his other son.</p>
<p>The spray of water hit his face and he coughed; disoriented, his right hand screaming in pain. Despite the pain, though, he didn't loosen his grip.</p>
<p>"Alright, alright," Dean said, huffing and puffing. "Here, we're here."</p>
<p>Solid ground under his boots, John wanted to get as far from the edge of the river as he could, but instead collapsed mere feet from the edge. Dean cursed behind him, barely dodging before he wound up on the ground. The landing jarred John and he gritted his teeth, arms still wrapped around Sam.</p>
<p>"Dad! Let him go...is he…" Dean's voice trailed off.</p>
<p>John couldn't answer him partially because he was still trying to catch a breath and partially because he didn't know the answer to Dean's question.</p>
<p>
  <em>Is he breathing?</em>
</p>
<p>Dean pulled Sam away; finally breaking John's grip on him. Yanking the backpack from Sam's shoulders, Dean shouted his name before easing him to the ground. John pushed himself into a seated position, coughed up some more water and tried to get a better look at his son.</p>
<p>The blood continued to flow, staining Sam's pale face with bright crimson. Arms limp at his sides, he wasn't moving. Dean leaned down, one hand at his brother's neck searching for a pulse, his other on Sam's chest. After a split second of assessment, he straightened and shouted his name again.</p>
<p>"Dean?" John asked before another coughing spell left him breathless.</p>
<p>Looking up briefly, Dean shook his head. Panic was bright in his eyes and John knew what it meant. Sam wasn't breathing. His exhaustion and pain instantly forgotten, John pushed himself to his knees and moved closer.</p>
<p>They all knew first aid and CPR and how to survive in the wilderness. He'd insisted on training his boys. This wouldn't be the first time they'd had to put that training to use and it never got easier.</p>
<p>Dean was in the process of shifting his brother into position for CPR when Sam suddenly began coughing up all the water he'd swallowed. Arching off the grass, he gasped and coughed; the water running red down his face. John's heart was still pounding painfully against his ribs, but hope surged anew and gave him a reason to pull himself together.</p>
<p>"Sam!" Dean called out, pulling his brother upright.</p>
<p>His brother was flopping weakly like a beached fish. Arms and legs still limp, Sam was coughing violently and Dean was struggling to hold him up. But he was alive and he was trying to breathe and John was so relieved he forgot about his injured wrist as he crawled toward his boys.</p>
<p>A fresh bolt of pain ripped through him at the movement and he cradled his hand to his chest.</p>
<p>"Dad?" Dean's voice held controlled hysteria and his eyes were wide, his face sheet white.</p>
<p>"I'm ok," John managed to grit out through clenched teeth. He wasn't ok, but he was a helluva lot more ok then he'd been a moment ago. Pain he could manage. Seeing one of his boys nearly drown was another thing altogether. He heaved in another gasping breath and scooted closer. "Think I sprained my wrist."</p>
<p>Dean stared at him, then at his wrist, then back down at his brother who was still coughing and vomiting up river water. John couldn't tell if he was conscious or if his body was just instinctively purging itself of the water. He was half on his side, Dean holding him snuggly so he couldn't fall flat on his face.</p>
<p>"Sammy, hey, hey," Dean was mumbling as he rubbed a hand against Sam's heaving chest. "Calm down now, ok? Come on, take a breath."</p>
<p>Sam's eyes flew open and he gave Dean such an annoyed glare that John laughed. Partially from relief and partially from how - even half drowned - Sam could very eloquently give his big brother a piece of his mind without saying a single word. Dean's eyebrows rose and it didn't look like he knew whether to bitch at his brother or to hug him.</p>
<p>The coughing spell wasn't over, but he wasn't throwing up water anymore and, now that he was a little more coherent, Sam started attempting to get his bearings. After a couple failed attempts, he got his arms under him and shoved himself upright. He would have tipped over if not for Dean's support.</p>
<p>"Hey, where're you goin'?" Dean asked, one arm around his brother's shoulders, the other against his chest.</p>
<p>Sam glared at him again, then went another shade paler under the blood and his eyes widened as he tried desperately to draw a breath. Dean patted his chest, told him to calm down again, and continued to encourage him while Sam gasped and struggled and finally managed to take a breath without coughing. For a moment, they all were frozen. Silent. Relishing each and every shaky breath Sam drew into his abused lungs.</p>
<p>And then all the tension went out of his body and he slumped against his brother's chest, shivering violently. The cold hit John at the same time and his wrist hurt even worse with each shake of his freezing body. Dean pulled Sam's jacket and shirt off and bundled him into his own dry coat. Thankful for his son's foresight, John gingerly started pulling his own shirts off and looking around for the coat he'd discarded just before going into the river.</p>
<p>By the time John had pulled his coat on, Dean had Sam sitting up against the base of a tree and was using Sam's discarded t-shirt to attempt to stem the blood running down his face as he assessed the damage.</p>
<p>"What the hell happened to your face?" Dean asked as he worked.</p>
<p>Sam didn't answer. His teeth were chattering and his eyes were half-open at best. Coughs shook him intermittently and his breathing sounded terrible, but at least he <em>was </em>breathing.</p>
<p>Dean glanced over his shoulder. "Dad, what happened?"</p>
<p>"Ran into a rock," John said, then experienced a coughing jag of his own. Clearing his throat, he said, "We got spun hard and he went face first into a rock."</p>
<p>Dean's eyes widened. He leaned down and peered at his brother more closely. "Sammy? Open your eyes."</p>
<p>Sam did, but didn't look happy about it. He spit out a mouthful of water and blood then suffered through Dean's brief, but thorough examination.</p>
<p>Supervising from where he sat a few feet away, still coughing harshly, John tried to remember where the nearest hospital was. Clearing his raw throat, he asked, "Dean?"</p>
<p>"I think he's ok, Dad. Well, mostly." Dean pressed the t-shirt into Sam's hand. "Hold that against your nose, I'm gonna check the gash on your head."</p>
<p>"I'm <em>fine," </em>Sam finally spoke up, teeth chattering. It cost him another coughing fit and a few gasping breaths before he recovered enough to speak again. He lowered the t-shirt and mumbled, "Can we...go someplace...warm?"</p>
<p>They were all chilled and the danger hadn't passed. Hypothermia was a very real concern.</p>
<p>"You think you can walk?" John asked, fumbling one-handed with the rope around his waist. Not that it mattered whether or not he could walk; they'd carry him if they had to.</p>
<p>T-shirt once again against his still bleeding nose, Sam nodded.</p>
<p>Dean looked doubtful , but didn't say anything. He patted Sam on the shoulder before moving away and pulling out his pocket knife. John allowed him to slice through the rope around his waist since he was fighting a losing battle.</p>
<p>"How's the wrist?" Dean asked, wrapping the rope up and stuffing it into his bag.</p>
<p>"Sore." John grimaced, struggling to his feet and pulling his backpack on.</p>
<p>"Hospital?"</p>
<p>John nodded, staring down at Sam who had yet to move despite his request to go somewhere warm. His face was swollen, his eyes were closed, already beginning to bruise and the cut above his eye was sluggishly bleeding. A concussion was one thing, but a near drowning wasn't something to be patched up in a seedy motel room.</p>
<p>"Alright, Sammy," Dean said, crouching next to his brother and nudging him gently. "Let's get you up."</p>
<p>Sam groaned, lowering his hand, his eyes still closed. Fresh blood trickled from his nose and he suddenly tilted forward, gagging, then coughing up a mouthful of blood onto the wet grass.</p>
<p>Grimacing in sympathy, John moved closer then ran his hand through his son's sopping wet hair. The kid leaned against him, shaking. Dean was supporting him from the other side, his worried gaze meeting John's. Trying to give him a reassuring smile, John calculated the distance back to the car.</p>
<p>At least a mile and a half.</p>
<p>Not a long walk for them typically, but right now it might as well have been five hundred miles. They were all tired and had taken quite a beating. But there wasn't any other option.</p>
<p>Steeling himself, he waited until Sam had stopped coughing, then said, "Alright, Dean, let's get him up."</p>
<p>A hint of doubt clouded Dean's eyes, but he just nodded. Shifting into a crouch, he gave his brother's shoulder a shake. Sam just groaned, his head hanging and his whole body going slack.</p>
<p>"Sammy." Dean's tone was louder than necessary, but he might as well have been whispering for all the good it did. When he got no response, he looked up. "Dad?"</p>
<p>Moving into a better position, John gripped Sam's arm with his good hand and said, "Sam. On your feet."</p>
<p>It didn't work as well as it sometimes did, but the firm command at least had Sam dragging sluggish eyes open. His sneakers scraped uselessly in the mud. But he was trying.</p>
<p>"Ok, Dean," John coached, getting to his feet.</p>
<p>Working together, they pulled Sam up with them...and nearly dropped him.</p>
<p>"Holy crap, Sammy," Dean said, huffing and pressing his free hand against Sam's chest to hold him up. "How are you so heavy?"</p>
<p>John might have laughed except he was too busy trying to hold onto his son with only one working hand. It wasn't that the kid was heavy, just waterlogged and half-conscious.</p>
<p>"Whoa, easy," Dean said, tightening his grip when Sam's knees buckled. "Eyes open."</p>
<p>It took a minute, but Sam finally complied. Swallowing hard, he blinked a few times, fighting to uncross his eyes and keep them open. His skin was milk white under the blood.</p>
<p>John shifted his grip until he could get a more secure hold of Sam's belt with his left hand.</p>
<p>Leaning down, he studied his son and asked, "How're you doing, Sammy?"</p>
<p>"I'm ok," Sam whispered, locking his knees and making an effort to straighten.</p>
<p>"Alrighty then," Dean said, getting his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Let's get the hell outta here. I'm ready for a hot shower."</p>
<p>"Me first." Sam's teeth were chattering. "You only got half-wet. Dad'n'me got all the way wet."</p>
<p>John laughed at the humor while relief flooded him at the coherence of the response.</p>
<p>Dean just rolled his eyes. Shifting the two backpacks he was carrying, he said, "Yeah, well I'm the one who fished both of you out. I think that counts for something."</p>
<p>"I don't know, Sammy," John said, relieved beyond words that they were all alive, if a bit battered. "What do you think?"</p>
<p>It took a long moment, then Sam said, "I guess he can have the first shower."</p>
<p>"Yeah?" Dean brightened.</p>
<p>"Yeah." Sam stumbled over the uneven ground.</p>
<p>"Well, then. That's settled."</p>
<p>The rest of the trek was mostly silent, everyone too exhausted and in pain to have any sort of conversation. By the time they reached the Impala, John was practically carrying his youngest while Dean was struggling under the weight of all their gear. The car was a welcome sight on any day, but right now even more than usual.</p>
<p>"Dean, you drive," John instructed, entire right arm throbbing as he guided Sam into the back seat.</p>
<p>There was the briefest hesitation before Dean's <em>yes, sir, </em>and a hint of a grimace.</p>
<p>"Dean?" John asked as Sam slumped bonelessly against the seat, his legs still hanging out of the car. "What's wrong?"</p>
<p>"Nothing."</p>
<p>But something <em>was </em>wrong. He could see it in the way Dean was moving. Gingerly. Awkwardly as he put the gear into the car. Like he was hurting.</p>
<p>"Dean, where are you hurt?" John left Sam where he was and rounded the car.</p>
<p>"It's nothing, Dad."</p>
<p>But it <em>was </em>something. Dean was shoving the last bag into the trunk with his <em>elbows.</em></p>
<p>John caught Dean's wrist as he straightened and a bolt of shock ran through him. Dean's hand - <em>both </em>hands - were bloody and shredded. The rope. He'd had no gloves on when he'd been holding the rope.</p>
<p>John could feel bruises forming around his waist and chest from the rope as he'd been jerked against it. No wonder Dean's hands were so badly damaged.</p>
<p>"I'll drive," John said, gently squeezing Dean's wrist. "I didn't realize."</p>
<p>"It's ok." Dean smiled, eyes tight with pain and worry.</p>
<p>John closed the trunk as Dean made his way to the passenger side. By now, Sam had drawn his legs up and was curled into a tight ball on the back seat, hands around his head as he intermittently coughed. John closed the back door then opened the front for Dean. By the time he made it back to the driver's side, the adrenaline rush was running out and exhaustion pressed down on him.</p>
<p>He slid behind the wheel and started the car.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Five hours, one ER visit, ten stitches, one wrist splint, and two bandaged hands later they were safe in the motel room.</p>
<p>John stepped out of the shower, gingerly toweling off his aching body. With one hand basically out of commission, it was awkward and painful to get dressed. A couple Tylenol and an ice pack were next on his agenda along with a few slices of pizza. They'd picked up three hot and ready pizzas after they'd left the hospital and his stomach was growling. He should have taken a box into the bathroom with him because food disappeared very, <em>very</em> quickly around two teenage boys.</p>
<p>Hopefully they had left him a slice or two.</p>
<p>He took a deep breath; the unwelcome thought of how close they'd come to disaster today haunting him. If not for the sounds on the other side of the door, he might have wound up falling down the rabbit hole of dark thoughts. But Dean was laughing and Sam was saying something John couldn't quite catch. They were alive, slightly banged up, but ok. Smiling at the sound of more laughter, John opened the door.</p>
<p>Both boys were laughing, settled cross legged on one bed. Dean was trying to bite off a piece from the slice of pizza Sam was holding for him. With his hands bandaged, Dean had been struggling to eat when John had gone into the shower. John regretted not having thought of that issue sooner and chosen something else for dinner, but apparently the boys had found their own solution.</p>
<p>"Don't drop it on my face," Dean warned as Sam held up the next slice. "Can you even see anything? Your face is all swollen like you punched a boulder with it."</p>
<p>Sam snorted, rolling his right eye. His left was swollen shut. He said, "I can see your stupid face just fine. Besides, it's not very hard to aim a slice of pizza at your big mouth."</p>
<p>"Oh shut up." Dean took a bite, a bit of cheese hitting him on the nose. He wiped it away with his wrist. Around the mouthful of pizza he said, "I'm going to die of old age before I manage to eat enough pizza to sustain myself. I burned up a lot of energy saving your soggy ass."</p>
<p>"I saved yours first, chupacabra chow," Sam retorted. He took a bite of his own slice of pizza.</p>
<p>John smiled, cherishing the moment. The laughter and teasing continued as he stepped into the room. Both boys looked over at him.</p>
<p>"I hope you saved me some pizza," he said, glancing at the three boxes lined up on his bed.</p>
<p>"There's a whole bunch of veggie pizza you can have." Dean grinned.</p>
<p>An argument started up right then about the best kind of pizza and what one could or could <em>never </em>put on a pizza (the unanimous consensus was anchovies). John helped himself to some pizza (veggie <em>and </em>meat lovers) and painkillers and settled on his bed. The entertainment from the other bed kept him occupied while he ate. By the time he was finished, Sam was falling asleep where he sat and Dean had taken to stabbing a slice of pizza with a fast food fork, picking it up whole and then biting off pieces.</p>
<p>Thirty minutes later, Sam was sound asleep under all almost the blankets in the room, his breathing congested through his broken nose. Dean sat beside him, his elbow keeping an ice pack gently balanced on Sam's face as he watched TV. He'd turned the volume off and was watching a subtitled Spanish soap opera with wide eyes.</p>
<p>Settled on the other bed with his wrist resting between a pile of pillows and an icepack of his own, John smiled.</p>
<p>They were all alive.</p>
<p>All in all, he had to agree with Dean.</p>
<p>It <em>was </em>incredible.</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I'm very excited to have (finally) gotten this little fic posted! Hope you enjoyed! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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